


Six, Seven, Ate

by Sp00py



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Crack Fic, Fix-It, Gen, RK is suffering, Suicidal Thoughts, Throat Injury, by accident, canon typical fucked up stuff, children fighting, mono is an idiot, no beta we die like RK, six is a troll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sp00py/pseuds/Sp00py
Summary: Mono never knew Six had a twin sister. RK never knew he was Six's twin sister. Six never knew how much fun it was to fuck with people. And none of them knew that this was going to spiral wildly out of control into a fix-it fic.AKA: RK and Six have the same character models. This causes some confusion.
Relationships: Mono & Six (Little Nightmares), Mono & The Runaway Kid & Six (Little Nightmares), Mono & The Runaway Kid (Little Nightmares), The Runaway Kid & Six (Little Nightmares)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter 1

Six ran. Mono had fallen into a hole, and she just left him because they were  _ still coming _ . He’d figure out a way to survive. Or he wouldn’t. Right now, her priority was herself.

She slid around a corner, splinters biting in all along her legs from the old and warped flooring, then righted herself and charged forward again.

Six ran right into something. It cried out and toppled as Six just barely managed to catch herself.

She stared down at the boy. He stared up at her. Behind Six, the shambling feet of adults ground ever closer. She had to think fast.

Six kicked him when he tried to get up, and he crumpled with a yelp. She struggled out of her raincoat, the brightest, easiest identifier, and leapt at him. 

“Six, don’t--” he shrieked as she tried to corral his flailing arms. Six punched him in the throat. The pain and surprise gave her ample opportunity to get her coat on him, then throw him into the hall she’d just come down.

She crawled into the safety of a fallen box and watched intently as he writhed, coughing, completely vulnerable. The adults descended on him. She grinned.

Six waved to RK as he was scooped up and carried away.

* * *

Breathing was terrifyingly hard. Had Six broken something? RK clawed weakly at the fingers around his waist as he wheezed and squeaked, being taken to somewhere horrible, he was sure.

Eventually, he was dropped unceremoniously onto a rug, and the door behind him closed and locked with an ominous click. He lay there for a while, getting his breathing in order. Trying not to panic. Finally, air a little easier to come by, he sat upright, rubbing at his aching throat, and looked at his new prison. Dolls and frills everywhere. Bars on the windows and vent. RK glared at a teddy bear sitting on the floor near him. It stared back innocently with big, glass eyes, body bulbous and overstuffed.

Of all the rotten fucking luck. The Mainland was enormous! This was an entire city! How had he managed to run right into that little lunatic? Or she ran into him, technically. Whatever. Six was here, and RK was  _ not _ okay with that. And she'd gotten him captured by adults with who knew _what_ plans for him.

RK pushed off the giant hood blocking his peripheral vision. How did she do anything with that in the way? Why had she given him her raincoat, anyway? He kind of thought she really liked it, given she'd always had it on when they'd run into each other on the Maw. He felt around in her pockets and came up with the lighter she used when he’d seen her creeping around the Maw. A few flicks and nothing happened. RK shook it next to his ear. Empty. Great. Thanks, Six.

Well, the coat was warmer than just his shirt and pants, at least. He hadn’t expected quite so much rain when he came ashore, so had been shivering his way through the city. Now Six was the one without the coat. Sucked to be her.

RK climbed to his feet, a little unsteady. His throat hurt a  _ lot _ . Just swallowing made it throb, and his breath came in little wheezy wisps.

He tottered over to the table and climbed up to survey the room better. Definitely a girl’s room. A very girly girl. Everything had lace and ribbons and, if not for the blueness of the light spilling in from outside, would probably be an explosion of pink.

RK looked down at his feet, where a bunch of crayon pictures lay scattered. Black, swirling voids, endless eyes, and scribbled out faces. Standard affairs. One was a picture of the teddy bear, though, showing whoever lived here had  _ some _ talent. Inside of it was a screwdriver. RK smiled. It was good seeing kids looking after kids.

He hopped down onto the teddy bear, knocking it over onto its face. He could feel the hard shape of the screwdriver still in there.

Clever little fingers began picking at the seam along the back, plucking it stitch by stitch. Stuffing puffed out and he kept having to yank it loose to see his work.

So intent on the task, RK didn’t even hear the door’s lock click and it open just the barest of slivers.

Pluck, tear, toss aside. Pluck --

“Hey,” a child’s voice said.

RK’s head snapped up, eyes wide and air choking in his throat. A boy was leaning into the room, head hidden by a paper bag. His hand was extended toward RK, as though offering friendship.

“Hey,” RK said. Or tried to say. He only managed a pained little croak that the other boy took in stride.

“It’s safe out here now,” the boy promised, wiggling his fingers invitingly. RK weighed the pros and cons of going with a strange child he'd just met. Most children weren't like Six. That was the biggest pro. He couldn't think of any cons.

That was easier than trying to escape on his own. RK got off the bear and slipped his hand into the other boy’s. The boy tugged RK’s hood back up with his free one, mumbling a warning about keeping hidden, that was said so confidently that RK was inclined to trust him on that. RK wasn’t a city kid, and didn’t mind admitting when he was out of his depth. He let the boy lead him into the hall.

True to his word, there weren’t any adults anywhere RK could see. There had been so many, before. He wondered what happened to them. (Six? Did Six happen to them?) Before he could investigate further, though, they arrived at a hole broken through the floorboards. The boy hopped down, and RK followed with a cough as his landing jolted his lungs. The boy cast a worried glance back that RK waved off after a few moments to recover.

“I found this when I fell down,” he whispered as they crept along underneath the floorboards. Even though RK could only offer pathetic frog noises in return, the boy seemed content with their one-sided conversation. He led RK to what looked like a rat’s nest of old newspaper, torn cloth, and some dusty, old granola bars still in their wrappers. Rats might have made it, but children had clearly been making use of it after.

Once they were safely ensconced in the nest, the boy turned around and threw his arms around RK, who instantly tensed. Why was he hugging him? Was this a city thing? Children weren’t nearly so touchy-feely on the Maw. After a few moments of silence, the boy pulled away, paper bag crinkling.

“I'm glad I found you so quick. They didn’t hurt you, did they?” he asked.

RK tried to say no, but at the spike of pain from his throat, just wound up shaking his head.

The boy relaxed, then pulled RK into another hug. Okay. So that’s just something they did here, then. RK awkwardly patted the boy on the back. Weird. He was shaking. Oh, fuck. Was he… was he crying? Why was he crying? What was RK supposed to do about that?

“I was so scared when I saw them grab you, Six,” the boy mumbled into RK’s shoulder. Poor guy, he really seemed to care about kids a lot. RK could respect th--

“Wha,” RK croaked, instantly scanning as much of the crawlspace as he could for that monster.  _ Six _ ?

“I didn’t mean to leave you alone,” the boy continued. RK patted him absently, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He thought RK was Six? From a distance, RK could understand that, but they were practically on top of each other.

He flushed, knowing exactly what had happened with sudden, horrible clarity. RK himself had had those heart-stopping moments of terror when catching his own face unexpectedly in a reflection. He shoved at the boy until he backed off.

“I don’t look like Six!” RK squeaked, managing to force out barely half of the sounds required to actually say that, before he began coughing.

“Six?” the boy asked in panic. He grabbed RK’s shoulders, ignoring RK trying to ward him off as he struggled to breath  _ and _ deny that he was Six. “Are you hungry? Do you need… y’know?”

RK wanted to tell the boy to  _ stop calling him Six _ , or at least call him an idiot for making the mistake in the first place, or scream ‘ _ what’ _ because apparently he knew about Six’s hunger, but the fire in his throat was a more pressing concern. RK curled up as much as he could with the boy in the way, and flopped over onto his side with a pathetic groan. His throat hurt so much.

The boy pet his face with fluttering, worried hands, then scrambled away with a promise to find something. RK didn’t catch what it was he was looking for, and he didn’t care. As soon as he was able, he was getting out of here.

Without the looming presence of the other boy, RK focused on breathing. In. Out. Slowly, carefully. He wheezed. The fire lessened, though every reflexive swallow or inhalation felt like choking down sandpaper. RK got to his hands and knees with only some effort. Okay, good. That was a start.

If he came across Six, he was going to punch  _ her _ in the throat. See how she liked it.

RK picked a direction that wasn’t where the boy had gone and began to crawl. He could hear the tinny sounds of TVs above him and see shadows moving through the cracks between the boards, shaking dust down onto him. So the adults were back. Great.

He found a room that seemed silent and dark, and began pressing on the floorboards for a loose one. When one wiggled, RK pressed his shoulder against it and really shoved, until the old nails slipped loose of their grip. It bounced up then clattered back into place. He dropped back down, waiting, heart (painfully) in his throat, for any indication someone had heard.

After several moments of silence, RK pushed the board up and peeked out.

“Six?” the boy whispered.

RK dropped the board with a strangled shriek. It hit him on the head, and he collapsed.

Once his eyes cleared of stars, he found himself staring up at the dark, weirdly concerned holes of a paper bag. This kid was too quiet. Normally an admirable trait, until he was sneaking up constantly on RK.

The boy helped him up. The back of his head throbbed, now, along with his throat. Why was it every time he encountered Six he wound up with a dozen more injuries?

“Why did you wander off?” the boy asked, looking up at the loosened board. “Is there something up there?”

RK breathed a long, long sigh through his nose, then just nodded. He didn’t know what the room was, only that it got him further away from here.

The boy helped RK push the board up and to the side, then climbed out and knelt to help RK, who was (through no fault of his own!) still a little unsteady. They were underneath a chair. Legs clad in what looked like pajama pants sat in front of them, but there was no movement. A TV stood further away, completely dark.

RK crawled forward to poke at one of the legs.

“Six,” the boy hissed, trying to grab his hand. RK yanked it away so sharply that he threw himself off balance. He tumbled out into the open. They both froze.

Nothing happened.

“Don’t,” RK bit out, as loud as he dared without sending himself into another coughing fit.

The boy’s hand fell sadly to the floor. RK felt a little bad about that, but he hated hearing Six’s name. He hated being reminded of how similar they looked. Maybe he should just get rid of the stupid coat, rain or no rain.

He got to his feet, taking in the figure tied to the chair. Their face was sunken and haggard, like they’d dried up and died staring desperately at the TV.

The boy eventually shook off his sadness and joined RK. There was the barest hint of his hand moving toward RK’s, before he changed direction to pull awkwardly at his coat sleeves. It looked like he was letting RK take the lead, this time. RK was good at that.

There was an open window just above the TV, letting rain ghost in with every breeze. RK ran over and jumped up, catching his hands on the dials to boost himself to the top.

“Six-- wait --”

The TV clicked on. The adult in the chair lurched to life, sending the chair skidding a few inches across the floor.

The boy yelled, and RK slipped. Okay, not going out that way, then. He ran to a dresser and ducked down behind it as the chair continued to screech and strain.

That was when he realized the boy wasn’t running or hiding. He was just standing there, hunched, hands to his head.

“Run!” RK tried to call, but barely getting even a squeak out. Instead of doing anything a sane child would do, the boy stumbled toward the TV and put his hands on it. Something fluctuated on the screen. The chair dragged forward a little more.

RK should leave. This was  _ Six’s _ friend. That said enough about his morality that, even without knowing anything about him, RK didn’t want him around.

But… RK remembered him holding out his hand and taking RK to the safety under the boards. He was clearly just another kid. Kids could be lied to. Kids could be desperate for a friend. He was clearly in trouble from whatever was on screen and the adult dragging themself closer.

He made it to the boy just before Six, in a dingy dark shirt that blended into the shadows. RK's heart skipped, but there was a bigger problem than her presence, now. She latched onto one arm, RK took the other, and without planning, they pulled at the same time.

The boy snapped back like a magnet losing its power and sprawled across the floor. RK leapt up to slam at the dials and buttons until the TV went dead again. The room was plunged into darkness, but for his trembling, whistling breath.

Six was crouched over the boy, who seemed disoriented. Her gaze moved from him to RK, who pressed himself backwards against the cold glass of the TV. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

The boy got to his feet, whatever he'd suffered from fading fast, but Six didn’t take her eyes off of RK.

“What -- Six?” he asked RK, whose attention flickered only briefly toward him, before returning to Six. The boy followed his gaze, contemplating Six. “Six?” he tried tentatively, this time at the right person. She gave a feral grin.

RK started creeping to the side, hoping to slip away without being noticed, but the boy caught his wrist. “Hey, wait! It’s okay!” he said.

RK looked down at the hand around his wrist, then at the boy, then at Six. Her head was tilted in contemplation, like she was waiting to see how this played out.

“Sorry I thought you were Six,” the boy said quietly, like he was trying to calm a cornered animal. Which, to be fair, RK _felt_ like a cornered animal. He didn’t even know where he’d go if the boy let go. Six was in front of the hole in the floor, and RK was kind of afraid to go near the TV’s dials again to try for the window.

He made a noise of he hoped acceptance, tugging subtly at his wrist. Let go. Let go--

“You guys just look so similar!” the boy said, not letting go. RK yanked a little less subtly.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, when the boy didn’t take the hint. Six took a few steps closer, and if RK hadn’t felt cornered before, he definitely did now. The boy turned to her.

“Like  _ really _ similar. Are you twins or something?”

Six stared at them for a second, then smiled again and nodded enthusiastically.

RK choked on a ‘no’.

“That’s…. Wow,” the boy settled on, as though struggling to decide how he felt about there being two Sixes. “I’m Mono. What’s your name?”

RK just stared. He wished Mono would let go of his wrist so he could curl up and die somewhere.

Six tugged Mono’s sleeve and held up her fingers.

“Oh, that makes sense,” Mono said, then turned his attention to RK, changing his grip to an enthusiastic handshake. “Hi, Seven!”


	2. Chapter 2

RK coughed.

They were all awkwardly huddled in a box left abandoned in the road. The house had been deemed too dangerous after whatever had happened to Mono, so RK had been dragged out along with them. He suspected Mono thought he was an idiot, because every time he tried to leave, Mono would gently herd him back to Six. And because  _ Mono _ was the idiot here, RK felt too bad to just up and run. That kid was going to get himself eaten if RK left.

RK hated this situation, but at least he wound up having the last laugh.

Six was shivering, now, and even though he’d been ready to throw the raincoat to the wind, now he kept it tight in his grip.

“How did you wind up with Six’s coat?” Mono asked, rubbing Six’s arms like that would help ward off the cold.

RK pointed at Six.

“Aw, you gave Seven your coat?” Mono asked, with a level of fondness RK couldn’t understand. He knew, right? He had to know. The hesitation with which he’d asked if RK was hungry said more than any words.

RK nodded, now, with a chirped, weak “yes.” He wasn’t going to let Six spew any more lies, or try to take it back. Much as she seemed to like this coat, it was his now. _Because_ she liked it so much.

“Well we’ll have to find a replacement, then. Do you uh…” he looked between Six and RK. “Are you guys  _ hungry _ ? Do you both… is that…?” he fumbled around the words, so at least he wasn’t a complete monster. He felt some shame.

“YES!” Six yelled, even as RK frantically shook his head no. Mono looked between the two of them.

RK coughed again. Stupid itchy, irritated throat. He wished he had some water.

Mono’s confused stance melted into something softer, and he put his hand on RK’s knee. “It’s okay. I bet people haven’t been very nice to you,” he said, head dipping as he contemplated the manacle around RK’s ankle. “But you’re safe here. If you … need to do that, like Six does. I understand.”

He gave RK’s knee a pat and returned to Six. Maybe RK should leave, and just let Mono get eaten. That seemed fair.

“Can you keep an eye on Seven, Six?” he asked as he stood. “I’ll go find you something."

Wait. Mono was leaving him alone with Six? No, RK did not agree to that. He shot to his own feet and caught Mono’s hand. Six hopped up too, catching Mono’s other hand. They glared at one another.

“Guys? I need my hands,” Mono said. “We can all go together. I just..” he tugged gently, trying to disengage his fingers. RK let him go, because unlike Mono, he actually  _ listened _ to nonverbal cues. Six let go too. Mono looked at his hands, which nobody was holding now.

RK stormed out of the box, then began digging through the nearest pile of trash. Mono was not leaving him alone with Six if he had any say about it.

Mono crept closer, dodging rotten fruit and tin cans as they were chucked his way. More specifically Six’s way, but Rk wasn’t sure if Mono realized he was trying to hit her. There was an indignant squawk that had Mono torn between dragging RK back into the safety of the box or returning to tend to Six and the banana peel splatted over her face.

RK ignored him, pulling out a now emptied trash bag. He turned it inside out and began to tear into it, until the bottom was gone. He pulled the ties tighter, making a child-faced sized hole in the bag, then held it up.

Mono contemplated the final product. “It’s nice?” he tried.

RK rolled his eyes and went back to Six, who was wiping her sleeves across her face. He held out the bag.

“Oh! It’s a poncho!” Mono helpfully said. RK nodded, shaking it at Six for her to take. “That’s so sweet of you, Seven! Gross, but sweet.”

RK smiled at Six, hoping it registered as pleasant instead of malicious, as he pressed her to take it. Six shoved it back at him. RK leaned in harder, but they really were the same exact size, so it was like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. They began quietly slapping at each other.

“It really is the best option right now,” Mono mused, gaze thoughtfully distant, unaware of their squabble. “We can find something better, later.”

At that proclamation, RK stepped back, the victor. Six held the offending bag in her hands, and seemed ready to tear it into pieces, except Mono swooped in and pulled it over her head. He adjusted the ties, wrapping them loosely around her neck to keep the bag from slipping, and finished it off with a bow. He tucked some loose strands of hair behind Six’s ear. It reminded RK of a mother animal tending to her ugly baby.

By the end, Six looked like the garbage she was. RK nodded, pleased with himself.

Mono took RK’s hand and tugged him along. RK leaned back, pulling against the hold, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We should get moving,” Mono said quizzically.

“Six?” RK choked out, pointing at their clasped hands. He was pretty sure Mono had grabbed him first so he wouldn’t wander, and RK did not approve. Go take your creepy girlfriend's hand, Mono, not his.

“Oh, sorry! Right. You can hold hands with Six, if you want. I just don’t want you getting lost.”

RK’s face paled a few more shades as Six sidled up and laced their fingers together. Mono patted them both on the head, apparently pleased at this development. Six dug her nails into the back of RK’s hand. He grit his teeth on any sounds, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was hurting him.

Mono started walking away, like this was all okay and normal. Six had to pull RK after, until they were roughly abreast of him.

“I don’t have any siblings, I don’t think,” Mono said, filling the silence with an easy chatter that made RK suspect he was always the one talking while Six just listened. “It must be nice. I can tell you really care about each other.”

Six splashed in a puddle, dragging RK into it and soaking his pants all the way to his knees. RK tried to yank his hand free, but only got more scratches for his effort. Six’s other hand covered it from the other side, trapping him and drawing him even closer. She smelled gross, like slimy old food and mold.

RK held his breath as much as possible as they walked, no clue where they were going, or what they were even doing. He swallowed, which both hurt and helped his throat, then coughed again. The coughing just hurt, and fed itself so he coughed even more, and had to inhale Six’s nasty stink as he struggled to breathe.

It took him a moment to compose himself and realize they’d stopped moving. Mono placed a comforting hand on RK’s shoulder, and leaned forward a bit so they were eye-level.

“Seven?”

RK glared at him, hand clutching at his stomach as new aches formed from all the spasms.

“We’ll find you some food, okay? Or I guess Six will. Because, you know…” he trailed off awkwardly, looking desperately at Six for help.

Six shrugged, then made a motion like pouncing. RK turned his glare onto her, forcing himself to stand straight and shoving Mono off. “No!” he bit out, inspiring a new bout of coughing. Was there permanent damage from where she’d punched him? Was he going to die from all this hacking?

Mono caught him as his coughing threatened his balance and gently directed RK to a stoop. “It’s okay, Seven. Sometimes you have to eat. Even if you don’t like the idea. You need to survive, right?”

“No,” RK muttered as he alternated between holding his breath to show his body who was boss and coughing even more, because RK was in fact not the boss of his own body.

“Six?” Mono asked as he rubbed circles on RK’s back. “Just… if you could find someone already…”

RK heard the pitterpatter of Six’s feet retreating, and dropped his head into his hands. Slowly, the coughing receded. Ah, RK didn’t realize how much he enjoyed breathing until he couldn’t do it.

Mono’s hand slipped from his back to around his shoulders, hugging him close. RK went very still. Mono did this with a familiarity that meant he probably hugged Six all the time like this. Mono was very affectionate, and RK didn’t know how to handle that, especially given the sort of people Mono was affectionate toward. If RK did actually eat children, Mono was practically begging for his throat to be ripped out. That sort of behavior around Six would get him killed, for sure.

“It’s okay,” Mono said again, squeezing tighter as though afraid he was going to run away. “I know it must be scary, having to do this. But I understand. You don’t need to be ashamed of what you need to do to survive. Now that you’re with us, we’ll protect you! No more chains or starvation or anything, okay?”

RK sighed and leaned into the hug in temporary defeat. Mono’s heart was in the right place, but his brain was basically in outer space. Although, he let Six eat kids, so maybe his heart wasn’t in the right place, either.

“‘M not eating kids,” RK muttered, though it came out like a balloon deflating. He licked his lips. He should try to tell Mono all the lies Six had said. He lifted his head to drag himself through the broken glass that was speaking, only to find Mono’s dark eyes staring intently at him from behind his bag.

“They probably hurt you a lot, didn’t they?”

“Uh?”

“The chain. The -- Six was afraid, too, when I saved her,” Mono explained. He had… saved Six? Saved the child-eating monster? RK couldn’t muster surprise. Of course he did. “You came from the same place she did, right?”

RK nodded, shifting uncomfortably, not sure what dots Mono thought he was connecting. 

“It’s not  _ fair _ ,” Mono said with a sudden vehemence, snatching up RK’s hands in his and clasping them close. RK sank as much as he could into his hood to put some distance between them. “You don’t deserve what they did. You’re just a little girl! I bet they never fed you properly. You’re so thin and -- and I’ve seen kids who got locked up and ignored. They can’t talk and get confused, too. But that’s okay, Seven. Me and Six’ll look after you!”

Mono was… uncomfortably obsessed with validating monsters. RK squirmed in his grip, feet slipping on the wet ground. His shackle rang out as it knocked against the stone of the stoop, and Mono’s attention drifted down to it. RK awkwardly tucked his shackled ankle behind the other.

“Maybe we can get that off,” he mused, reaching down to touch it and completely ignoring (again) every sign that RK didn’t want to be touched. So intent was RK on Mono and Mono on RK, neither realized they had company.

Something thudded on the ground in a puddle of bloody white sheet. RK and Mono both shrieked and latched onto each other. Six rolled her eyes, then picked up a corner of the sheet to begin wiping off the blood splashed all on her mouth and chin.

“Oh,” Mono squeaked, recovering first. “You… found some food. That’s fine. That’s -- that’s good. Excited to eat, Seven?”

RK was about to throw up. There was an  _ arm _ reaching out toward him through the sheet, as though grasping for help that never came.

Mono stood up, leaving RK lurching in a sudden vertigo as he was abandoned. “They were… dead before, right?” he checked with Six, who gave absolutely no response, verbally or otherwise. “Right, of course. Of course they were. I’ll just… be over… somewhere.”

RK scrambled for Mono’s hand as he tried to leave, only for the other boy to gently disengage and pat RK comfortingly. “It’s okay. I won’t be gone forever. I just… It’s hard to see. Though I don’t hold it against  _ you _ ,” he was quick to assure RK, backing away frantically because Six was already tearing into the sheet. “I’ll come back.”

Six intercepted RK as he tried to follow Mono. RK came up sharp and turned to go another route anywhere away from her, but she manhandled him until he was looking at the corpse. She pointed at it, then pointed at RK. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to  _ actually  _ eat it or was making a threat for what she'd do to him. With blood all down her front and bright between her teeth, it was terrifying either way.

“I’ll pass,” he choked out. He was alone. With Six. And a corpse that was  _ clearly _ not dead when she found it.

Six hooked her foot around his leg and tripped him as he tried to step back. Now she was looming above him in her nasty black trash bag of a poncho. RK squeaked for Mono, but that asshole had  _ left him alone _ . This was suddenly far less just about messing with Six, or keeping Mono safe from himself. RK didn't want to die or eat a child. Those seemed like simple, reasonable wishes, but here he was, terrified that one or the other was about to happen.

Six pointed again at the kid, who RK could now see had eye-holes cut in their sheet. Like some little sheet ghost. When RK didn’t make a move toward it, she leaned down and grabbed something, throwing it at him.

He flinched as a warm and furry body smacked his face and flopped lifelessly into his lap. RK opened one eye warily, then the other, when he realized Six had thrown a dead rat at him.

Did… she want him to eat it? Raw?

Even cooked, RK had trouble choking down meat. Something about piles of corpses, the torn out throat of the Lady and chewed up Nomes had soured him to the whole idea of it. There was no way he could eat a rat raw.

He glared at her, then immediately regretted it, as she had no such compulsions about raw meat and had already turned to her meal. His hands flew to his mouth, pressing back the urge to puke as she tore into the little sheet ghost barely a foot in front of him. He was almost positive he saw the body move a bit, as though struggling. As though alive.

RK clambered to his feet and ran. Six didn’t stop him, this time.

He tripped over Mono about a block away (all the city! all of it! and he kept running into these two!). RK barely caught himself on his hands and knees, asphalt biting into his palms and knees. Mono sat up, quickly adjusting his bag that RK belatedly realized hadn’t been on his head when they collided. Suspicious, but not something RK was too keen on following up right away. His head was too full of dead rats and dying kids.

“Seven?” Mono asked tentatively. Little stick figures and signal towers had been drawn on the ground all around him, already blurring in the rain. His head tilted a little, scanning down RK’s front. “Are you… finished?”

RK looked down. Blood and fur like black hair stuck to his raincoat. “I didn’t--” he choked out, then swallowed with a wince.

Suddenly he was being enveloped in a hug by the taller boy. Mono petted his head, cooing comfortingly. “It’s okay, Seven. You did what you had to. Please don't be sad."

If not that would shred his vocal cords even more, RK would have screamed. He shoved Mono away, face screwed up in frustration and anger. “I hope she eats you,” he mouthed, only a few stray wisps of words escaping.


	3. Chapter 3

Mono followed him like a lost puppy as RK stalked off. He actually _would_ need food at some point. Real food that real children ate, not dead rats or children.

RK contemplated Mono. He didn’t _seem_ like he ate children. He actually seemed kind of disgusted by it, which, _same_. So he had to eat something else, right? RK only really knew the Maw, which had only one nightmarish kitchen. What he’d seen here seemed mostly nonsensical, rooms crumbling into each other, stacked on one another. But they had to have kitchens here, too, right? He wish he'd grabbed one of those granola bars back in the rat's nest, but he somehow hadn't predicted being abducted by Six and her pet idiot.

He found a building with a couch thrown through the window, creating a sodden, squishy ramp into relative dryness.

“Where are you going, Seven?” Mono asked as he climbed up after. He toppled down the other side and almost knocked RK over, automatically reaching out to catch him. Once they were both stable, he slipped his hand into RK’s, but didn’t try to pull him back outside or anywhere else, letting RK take the lead for now, accepting his silence.

RK felt a bit of relief that Mono hadn’t realized what he’d tried to say before. He didn’t really want him to get eaten. He was an idiot, but nobody deserved that.

He tugged Mono along to explore the building. Apartments, it looked like. The gentle murmur of TV sets poured out of warped doorways, and faceless adults stood pressed desperately to the gaps, ignoring the world for the faintest glimpse of static. RK could feel Mono’s unease around the TVs and he himself was uneasy around all the zoned-out, faceless adults, so crept on.

The only problem, he was beginning to realize, was there were TVs _everywhere_. Every apartment had at least three, in bedrooms, bathrooms, living rooms, you name it. They even littered the halls or hung outside windows like some spreading disease, and RK had taken to darting forward and turning them off when it was safe to.

In one of the bathrooms, where someone sat with a TV in the tub (with a curtain pulled, thankfully, a small mercy protecting his young eyes), the sink was dripping steadily. RK immediately went for it, battling the slick porcelain as he hunted for water, until eventually he made it over the edge and slipped into the sink. He fought with one of the handles until the pipes groaned and gross, muddy water sputtered out. He waited a few minutes for it to clear, then shoved his entire face under the faucet.

Mono stood awkwardly on the lip of the sink as RK all but drowned himself guzzling in iron-tasting, icy water.

Finally, RK emerged, hair plastered to his face. He took a few breaths, then went back under. Water was so good. Best thing ever. And it tasted so much fresher here than the Maw.

When he went in for a third drowning, Mono finally reached forward and turned off the water. RK dripped down into the bowl, feet up the edge, face nearly in the drain. If there was a heaven, it was probably this slimy sink. He could feel Mono's eyes on him.

"Was thirsty," RK explained, testing out his throat. While air was still difficult to come by, it didn't hurt nearly so bad as before.

"Oh."

After several more minutes of Mono just standing there, staring at him while he reveled in the new feeling of not dying of pain, RK pushed himself to his feet and exited the bathroom. He turned off the TV in the next room. Weird, he thought he'd already done that coming in.

It took him a few, very confusing rooms to realize the TVs were turning back on on their own.

“They do that sometimes,” Mono said comfortingly, hunched slightly behind RK, using him as a shield.

RK didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. Especially with someone who had a weird, dangerous TV obsession.

Emboldened by a new, hydrated vigor, he stormed right over to the nearest offender and turned it off. It turned back on. He turned it off. It turned back on. He went behind it and unplugged it. It turned back on.

RK made an enraged squeak. More drastic measures were clearly called for.

“Seven!” Mono hissed, refusing to come close to the TV but waving his hand around for RK to take. RK stomped past him, searching for anything to smash the TV into pieces. Let it just try to turn back on after that. He found it in a hammer tucked away behind an overstuffed, rotting chair. He dragged it out, only to see Mono with his hands pressed to the screen.

RK dropped the hammer on his foot with a muffled curse. Five seconds. He’d left him alone for _five seconds_. He bounced his way over to Mono on one foot, manacle jangling dramatically.

“Mono!” He rasped, yanking on his arm that was all but superglued to the screen. “ _Mono!”_

Though he doubted it’d do anything, he hit the power button again. The screen didn’t even flicker. Of course.

RK wrapped his arms around Mono’s waist and braced himself, wincing at the pressure on his foot. He heaved. Mono was like stone. Again. RK slipped and fell on his butt, sending a jolt of pain from his tail bone up to his spine. He was starting to think Mono was as cursed as Six, at least so far as RK getting hurt was concerned.

He slithered between Mono and the TV, bracing his back on Mono’s chest and his feet on the screen. _C’mon_. How could one boy be so stuck to a screen? RK was afraid of hurting Mono trying to save him, but --

Suddenly, he was pushing against no resistance, and sent them both flailing backwards. RK sprawled on Mono, who coughed weakly. RK stared up at the ceiling, which was buckling and warped with water stains. That _had_ to be an extreme safety concern. Mono shoved at him, and he sat up, only to realize something was wrong with the TV.

Hands were pressing against the screen as it rippled and bulged, more water than glass. What the hell had Mono done? Whatever, it didn’t matter right now.

Immediately, RK was on his feet, and he caught Mono by the elbow, dragging him along before he’d even shown any awareness of the situation. Eventually, Mono figured out how his legs worked, and grabbed RK’s hand. Soon, they were both running as a very, very tall man crawled awkwardly through the too-small screen. Adults were so dang _weird_.

They crashed against a closed door, and RK hefted Mono up to open it, praying it was unlocked. This gave him ample time to stare in terror as the Tall Man straightened and began a leisurely walk toward them. The handle turned, Mono fell onto RK. They scrambled through, not bothering to close it. Not that it mattered, as the Tall Man simply glitched right through without opening it any further. HIs longer leg span could have easily caught up to both of them, if he tried.

As they ran down the hall, RK could see Mono stumbling, a hand to his head, every frantic step unsteady. He could easily outstrip him and keep going. Six probably would.

That was enough for RK to leap forward as soon as they turned a corner and he spotted a door just barely ajar. He shoved Mono hard toward it. No more running, at least not for Mono. He fell into the darkness with a yelp as RK ate moldy wooden floor.

RK sat up, a hand to his now bloody face, and their eyes connected, before Mono’s drifted up.

Oh fuck.

RK tilted his head back. The Tall Man was there, staring down at him. Mono crumpled into a pathetic ball, hands pressed uselessly to his head, making a faint wail like a distant radio station tuning. RK didn't even know children could make that sort of noise.

He also wasn’t sure if the Tall Man noticed Mono was there. In the off chance he hadn’t…

He ran down the hall, a bright yellow distraction. Or at least, that was the plan (that had been Six's dumb plan, too, and it had worked). The world wasn’t working quite right, though, because of course if something worked perfectly for Six, it failed spectacularly for RK. He felt like he was running upstream through jello. Still he pressed on, because RK had no clue what else to do. He'd committed, dammit. Just... keep... pushing... Something yanked inside, like a rubber band snapping. He shrieked and blacked out.

He came to what felt like only seconds later, the Tall Man’s fingers around his torso. RK blinked stupidly, head lolling as he tried to figure out what had happened. His entire body ached in a cold, tingly, and very worrying way. Oh, right. He’d been caught!

The world around him was painfully saturated, hard to make out. RK squinted around, almost sure he could see eyes and doors and -- his head hurt just trying to figure out what was going on. Something was very wrong, inside and out.

The Tall Man turned his grip so that RK was slumped toward him instead of away. Don’t puke on his nice suit. Or do. RK should definitely puke on his nice suit.

As RK tried to figure out the trajectory, the Tall Man flicked off his hood. RK immediately pulled it back over his head. _Keep hidden._ The Tall Man did it again. RK bit down on his thumb, tasting ozone and static and faded, papery skin. 

They stared at one another, creepy dead black holes of eyes locked onto RK with a look of slightly pained confusion. RK didn’t know what _he_ had to be confused about. He was the one kidnapping children. If anything, he deserved to be bitten a little more often. RK gnawed on his finger for good measure.

The Tall Man shook his teeth off, then threw him. The world changed orientation, changed color, temperature, weight -- everything was different. RK smacked into Mono, bowling both of them over.

He rolled off of Mono and sputtered and spat, trying to get the taste of Tall Man out of his mouth. Gross.

“Seven,” Mono gasped, flinging his arms around RK, interrupting his frantic licking of his coat sleeve to wipe the flavor off his tongue. “I was so scared!”

“Me too,” RK mumbled into Mono's coat. His throat hurt worse, now. Back to square one. He pushed away and squinted around, eyes struggling to adjust to all the changes happening so rapidly.

They were... somewhere else? A different room, a different TV. A different time, even? It felt different, as much as that made zero sense.

Mono dragged RK to his feet and away from the TV that still crackled with static, giving him no time to really contemplate it. RK would really have appreciated the world sorting itself out before he had to move, but he managed to fall his way in a roughly forward direction across the heaving floors.

Wood gave way to asphalt by the time RK gave up and flopped face down into a puddle. He was content to drown there, the cool water soothing his throbbing mouth and nose, but Mono flipped him over. His paper bag filled RK’s vision.

“Are you okay?”

He’d just been yanked into another dimension, then just as quickly tossed back out. Why wouldn’t he be fine? RK settled on scowling.

“You look exactly like Six when you do that,” Mono said with a relieved little sigh. Normally RK would have hated the comparison, but he was having a hard time mustering any energy right now. “There was… there was something weird, when you were kidnapped.”

“Oh?” RK asked apathetically. Water was trickling into his hood and all down his back. Now there was too much water. Maybe he was just never going to be happy about anything, ever.

“Yeah, it looked like… Maybe we should get you somewhere more dry?”

Mono hefted RK to his feet, and an entire waterfall fell out from his raincoat. He shuddered.

They settled down on a pile of clothes that were probably a person at one point, protected by an overhang, the only TVs around them shattered. RK tripped on a shoe and called the pantleg he fell on good. No more moving for now.

He curled up on the leg, tucking his arms under his head. The world was nice and dim and dark.

He woke up to something licking his face.

“No doggy,” RK mumbled, smacking at something that rustled like a plastic bag. He opened his eyes more fully to find Six straddling him, blood on her mouth.

“Six, don’t be gross!” Mono admonished, shooing her off of RK. She very pointedly wiped the blood from her mouth and licked it off her hand.

RK gingerly touched his face, feeling a thicker wetness than just water, though it was congealed and crusted at the edges. Oh, that was probably his blood, wasn’t it? He _had_ spent a while banging his head on the ground. He looked at the smears on his fingers, then without thinking gave them a lick. Not bad.

Wait.

“Seven, don’t be gross,” Mono said more gently, pulling RK’s hand away from his face where he’d begun to frantically scrub at the blood.

Something was definitely wrong. That tall bastard had done something to him. RK didn’t know what, or why, or how, but he felt weird and hollowed out and... and…

Oh no.

“Seven?” Mono asked, tilting his head up to look at him. RK could see pale skin between his coat and bag. He almost thought he could actually see the blood moving underneath it, too. “Are you okay?”

RK’s stomach growled.

He was hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RK calling the Thin Man by the wrong name is peak comedy. i will never make anything funnier


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear this is still comedy. _honestly_. this chapter was supposed to go a v different route, but RK decided to fall into a sewer so. Also I updated the summary to better reflect the story now.

Six was dying of laughter. RK was about ready to make sure she was dying for real, but Mono was in the way, fretting over him.

RK wrapped the pantleg around himself like a damp blanket, curling up tight and failing miserably to block out the sounds of cackling. What had happened to him? What had the Tall Man done to him? Was this because he bit him?

Just don’t panic. Easy. His stomach hurt, and he realized he was desperately tonguing his split lip. RK pressed his hand to his treacherous mouth.

“Did you not eat enough before?” Mono asked.

RK covered his ears.

“Ate nothing,” Six supplied once she had a moment to breathe.

“Seven!” Mono said, and RK never had a mother before, but suspected this was what one would sound like.

“Don’t eat,” he grumped. Normally, RK kind of felt himself above such things like childishly pouting. At the ripe old age of ten (maybe), he was done with childish things. But this occasion called for a bit of grumping.

“You _need to eat_.”

RK did not want to be having this conversation, now or ever. He lowered his arms and glared up at Mono, before forcing himself to sit up. He pointed aggressively, jabbing Mono in the chest.

“You let out that TV guy!” he mostly said. He definitely got out the word TV, at least, and by the way Mono froze, he realized what was going unsaid. “Did some -- did something --” RK’s stomach clenched, and he began to cough, whether from his attempts to speak or from this newfound disease.

Six wasn’t laughing, now, her curious gaze drifting from RK as he hacked up a lung to Mono, who was suddenly very uninterested in talking to RK.

“TV guy?” she asked.

Mono shrugged.

RK punched him sort of in the arm. Aiming was hard right now.

“Seven was the one playing around with TVs!” Mono said quickly.

“Foll--followed -- you foll--” RK struggled to simultaneously breathe and kick angrily at Mono despite the pants tangled around his legs.

As though finally realizing RK wasn’t going to let this argument die before he did trying to speak, Mono scrambled up. “I was just -- I didn’t know -- _you_ shoved me -- you should have left --” He flapped his hands as though trying to pull the words out of the air and reorder them in some way that made sense, then gave up and ran away.

RK slumped back, fighting more coughing, more pain in his throat and now his stomach, too. Six stared after Mono long after he’d disappeared, then looked back at RK. A smile slowly crept over her face. He glared weakly at her and made a very rude gesture with his hand. That was about all the rebellion he could afford, right now.

Six sat a little closer. When he barely responded, she sat even closer, until her garbage bag shoulder was pressed against him.

“What,” he barely managed to say. He should be afraid. Six was violent and unpredictable and, oh yeah, _ate children_. But if he really did have this… thing, maybe dying would be best.

“Hungry?” she asked innocently.

His stomach growled, and he flushed.

Six stood up and patted RK condescendingly on the head, then left. Finally, he was blessedly alone.

Maybe this was all just some horrible nightmare, and if he went to sleep, when next he woke he’d be on the beach of the Maw, with a dozen Nomes playing in the sun-warmed sand, a boat of children coming in for refuge. That sounded nice.

RK woke up to the horrifying shrieking of a rat in pain. He shot up, the world spinning, before he found the culprit. A rat had been tied up by one of its hindpaws, the other side looped to a broken TV. It was bleeding. RK hated how clearly he could smell that.

He looked frantically around for Six or Mono, but there was nobody there. Just him. And a rat.

Despite his newfound curse, RK had a long, long history of abhorring meat. His stomach churned in open revolt at the idea of eating it (raw! Living! Squirming in terror and pain!), but his mind kept urging him forward.

No. He was absolutely not playing Six’s sick game. RK fumbled around the broken TV, panicking the rat even more as it yanked and yanked and more blood smeared on the ground.

He grabbed a shard of curved glass from the screen and sawed it across the string, until it frayed and snapped. The rat ran away, trailing a short length. RK watched it with predatory focus, fighting every instinct to give chase. How could he have changed so much, so quickly? He barely recognized his own mind, now.

And then it was gone. He hoped it would be able to gnaw off the rest of the string, later, and recover.

The glass shard fell from his fingers, coated in blood, sharp and alluring. RK gave into the urge to lick at his wounds. It tasted horrible. All pennies and pain and tears. RK licked and sucked until nothing more oozed out.

Mono came back to him rocking and crying, chewing pathetically at his palm as everything in him screamed to feed. Did Six feel like this? For years? Was… was this sympathy blooming in him for that monster? No, she always indulged. She felt nothing but greed.

Gently, Mono pulled RK’s hand from his mouth as he wiped at his eyes with one cuff. He was being so careful. RK took one look at Mono and his delicious, delicious throat, with all its blood and the breathing it was doing, and burst into more tears.

Instead of running like he should be, like anyone should from him, now, Mono crushed RK close in a hug. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he murmured, burying RK’s face right in the crook of his shoulder. It was almost like he wanted to die. His fingers scratched lightly through RK’s hair as he rocked him soothingly. “Shhh, don’t cry, Seven.”

RK bit his lip hard enough to taste his own blood again. The pain distracted him from the urge to eat. But that wouldn’t work for long.

Something moved beyond Mono. Six, RK thought, but then he realized it wasn’t even a child. It was like a shadow of a child, like the shadow kids of the Maw, but a little less solid, dissolving around the edges. One wearing a raincoat with an oversized hood. It was gesturing at him to follow, making running motions. Away from Mono.

Yes, right. He needed to get away from Mono. RK shoved and shoved until Mono took the hint and loosened his grip. He climbed unsteadily to his feet. When Mono tried to follow, RK pushed him back down and stumbled, then ran, after the flickering form of his own shadow. He flew by Six, who had a look of genuine surprise on her face; he ignored Mono’s worried call.

He ran.

The alleys opened to streets, all ruined and full of trash. RK had no clue where he was going, but at every corner, in the long shadows cast by buildings, he’d catch a glimpse of his own shade darting ahead, as though playing a game of tag.

Slowly, RK got closer, until his shadow vanished finally, right where the world ended. RK fell to his knees on the edge of the crevasse, scraping up his skin. His heart was pounding loud in his ears, breath whistling and scraping at his throat. He leaned over the edge, staring down into a murky void.

Should he kill himself? Was that what his shadow wanted? That would solve his problem. He’d almost eaten a rat. He’d almost eaten Mono. He was a monster.

But RK was afraid. He didn’t _want_ to die. He’d worked very hard on doing the exact opposite, in fact. There was a reason he had a manacle around his ankle and fingers rough and dirtied from crawling around the Maw, around the city. He’d do almost anything to survive, and to help others survive. But wasn’t his survival now a danger to other children? Selfishly, RK suddenly didn’t care. He did so much that nobody asked him to but somebody _had_ to do, he deserved this moment of weakness, right? _He didn’t want to die_.

So, like the coward he was, he backed away from the edge.

His eyes locked on the light of the signal tower across the gap, its light scrapping the clouds. That was -- that was where the TV signals came from, right? The TV guy -- the Tall Man. He had to be there? Maybe there was something there to undo what he’d done to RK.

So he won’t die. He’ll just...fix this. That seemed feasible, right? Except Six had always been like this. She’d known exactly what was wrong with him, maybe even before he did. RK doubted some guy who lived inside TVs did that to her. That was all Six. Why was he like _her_ , now?

Choking down his hunger, he looked around the warped and cracked street for any clue as to how to get across. Whatever had caused this rift was thorough, slicing through the earth as far as he could see. There were lights on on both sides, so some wires had to have survived that he could shimmy across, or maybe… was there even a floor to this canyon? There had to be, right?

Something thudded behind him, almost launching RK right into the pit in terror. Which would definitely answer his question, but --

He skidded at the edge, clawing desperately for a hold, and dragged himself just barely back to safety as bits of the road fell away. Heart in his throat, he sprawled, taking a much needed moment to recover. RK couldn’t find the energy to worry about being attacked by whatever had fallen. Today had been hard. Even life had to recognize he needed a damn break.

Eventually, when nothing decided to prove just how little life cared about RK, he got to his feet. A body, mangled from the fall and oozing so much blood that his mouth watered, lay in an indent it had slammed into the ground. He looked up the side of the curved building it must have plunged from. It was one of those adults whose face was eaten away. One of those Viewers that still watched TV desperately with no eyes.

And its fingers were still twitching. As RK stared, eyes wide, the Viewer dragged its broken body toward him, warped remnants of its face tilted up and oozing rivulets of blood. He stumbled to the side. It kept going straight, sightless gaze locked on the tower, until it went right over the edge, no hesitation, no recognition of the fall. For someone so intent on survival, seeing such callous disregard for self-preservation sat very wrongly in RK. He swallowed down the unease and the saliva.

He could have so easily eaten that, he realized belatedly, then was very glad he didn’t think of it at first. It had been unsettling enough watching its desperate struggle toward the tower without having to contend with wanting to _eat_ it. RK doubted he would have even been the first to take a taste, in some sick way. He gagged just thinking about what its warped flesh would have felt like between his teeth, then tried to banish it from his head. His mind helpfully ignored him and provided all sorts of jumbled ideas of chewing rubber and licking wires. So gross.

He scanned the buildings for more possible jumpers, then lowered his gaze.

A garbage bag moved -- oh no, it was just Six. RK didn’t see Mono anywhere, which was for the best. He didn’t need any more temptation.

Curiously, Six inspired exactly zero cravings. RK tensed as she approached, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure if that lack of craving was the same for her, even if she seemed to know exactly what was wrong with him, and made ready to run.

“Shadow,” she said. Not the opening he’d expected, but she _had_ seen his shadow. RK could understand some curiosity.

“Rat,” he responded, scowling. No talking about his shadow buddy without addressing that grisly elephant in the room.

She rolled her eyes. “Need to eat, idiot.”

RK shook his head. He didn’t care if she thought she was doing him some sort of favor, or was just fucking with him. He wasn’t eating a living animal.

“You have my shadow,” she pressed, making the shape of her raincoat’s hood around her face.

RK pointed at his own chest. That had been _his_ buddy, thank you very much. Six wasn’t allowed to have them. She didn’t like that answer.

“Give it back.” She said it with such flat anger that RK took a step back. Why would she think it was hers? She didn’t have the coat anymore, so obviously it hadn’t been her shadow. They were his. They weren’t helping _her_ out.

He shook his head. Another step.

The barest hint of movement from Six sent RK running, like an idiot. She gave chase. Of course she did. She always liked when prey ran. He _knew_ that, but this was _his_ shadow, dammit! He’d protect them as much as he would any other child, especially from Six.

Six tackled him into the side of a dumpster, and they both dropped, stunned. RK was getting sick of hitting things with his face.

Six recovered first (she always did. It wasn’t _fair_ ) and, as though hearing his thoughts, began hitting him with her fists. One caught his eye as he covered his face with one arm and flipped over, crawling away as much as he could with a feral girl on his back. She dragged at his coat. He fumbled for the buttons, then flew forward as Six fell backwards with a startled cry. RK was in no state to be fighting. He wasn’t a fighter at all, but he was a master at fleeing and hiding.

RK tripped and splashed into a deep current of rainwater rushing along a gully it had cut through the street, right into a drain. It swept him up. He screamed silently as he dove into darkness.

The fall was disorienting, blind and _wet_ , until he splashed into water. For several terrifying seconds, RK struggled to figure out which way was up and get his footing. Water dragged at his pant legs, and he kept going under, vile sewage flooding his mouth. Finally he felt the brick at the edge, and heaved himself onto the slimy ledge, hacking up sewer water.

RK had gone from having no water to far, far too much. He felt like goldilocks, except _she_ was just picky. He almost drowned. What RK would give for a bed of any hardness and gruel of any temperature. He was tired of being hungry (of being _hungry_ , now). But he had too much restless energy to sleep in a soggy, sewage-soaked pile. This reminded him of the Maw, and the leeches who preyed on wayward children. Not safe.

He rolled over, a hand to his swelling eye. Needed to move. Needed to push through the hunger bringing him to his knees, the pain and aches of fighting and drowning. He pushed to unsteady feet. Step one: accomplished.

Now to pick a direction. There were three that didn't involve going back into the water. RK squinted through the gloom filtering down from above. Something moved. The urge to pounce surged, but luckily was so banged up even if he wanted to follow through, he didn't have the energy. Just standing was really taking it out of him.

He slumped down in defeat. So pick a path _then_ stand up.

The skittering thing came closer.

"Go 'way," RK muttered. He didn't need the temptation.

It ignored him. Little greyish feet came into view. Hands pulling nervously at a cone shaped hat. RK's gaze slipped over and above the Nome. Maybe if he pretended to ignore it --

It reached forward and touched his hand, then wrapped around a finger. It wanted him to follow it. Swallowing down the urge to bite, RK tottered to his feet, giving in to the very different urge for friendship. For help.

He should be alone forever now, a monster and a danger, but he really, really didn't want to be.


End file.
